


Hormones and Bed Rest

by truth_renowned



Series: Hormones and _____ [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Married Life, Pregnancy, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7862833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pregnant Peggy is ordered on bed rest, and Daniel has to deal with the consequences. Alternates between Peggy and Daniel’s points of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hormones and Bed Rest

“Bed rest? What in the bloody hell is that?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” says Peggy’s obstetrician. “You work too much, Mrs. Sousa, and that is putting undue stress on the baby. I am prescribing bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy.”

Her eyes widen. “The remainder…? That could be weeks!”

“Yes, it could,” the doctor says, not backing down. “You are to remain in bed or in a comfortable chair, getting up only to use the bathroom or to shower. You may get up to walk around the house but very minimally. No lifting, no bending, and absolutely no work. If you want a healthy baby, you’d best abide by my orders.”

Peggy bristles. She doesn’t take orders; she gives them. “Doctor, in my position, bed rest is not an option.”

“Yes, it is,” Daniel says. “The baby needs it. You need it.” 

“Daniel,” she says sharply, “I am the director of a major agency--”

“That can run without you there every day,” he interrupts. “You have trained every one of those agents better than anyone could, and let's face it. Your second-in-charge is a pretty sharp guy.”

She smiles. “True, Assistant Director Sousa is a right good fellow but--”

“Peg, I've got this. The rest of us have got this. You need to look after yourself and the baby.” He takes her hand, and his expression softens. “I have enough to worry about at work. Do not make me worry about you and the baby any more than I already am, because I will. You know I will. Please.”

Damn, he’s good, she thinks. Placing it on himself. _Do this for me because you’ll make me worry._ She doesn’t want to give in but the desperate look in his eyes nearly breaks her heart.

She looks at the doctor, then back to Daniel before sighing heavily. “Fine. Bed rest it is.”

\------

Fifteen minutes into her first day of bed rest and already she's antsy. She's on the bed but squirming about, and he knows it's not because she is uncomfortable. 

She needs this, needs the rest, but nothing he says gets through to her. _Hell, I need this_ , he thinks. Agents have been complaining to him that her moods change on a dime. Like they needed to tell him that. One minute she's affectionate, and the next she's biting his head off because he left a sock in the bathroom. He’s heard other men over the years talk about their pregnant wives and the drastic mood swings, but he thought they were exaggerating. He’s a staunch believer now.

“How can he expect me to just sit here? That doctor is out of his bloody mind.”

“That doctor,” Daniel replies, “is one of the best in the field of obstetrics.”

“Bollocks.” 

He can’t help but smile at her over-pronounced pout. “Better be careful, you’ll trip over that lip.”

She sneers at him and he sits on the bed, pulling her to him. She resists at first but he knows that rubbing her lower back soothes her, and he digs his fingers into her cotton-covered skin. Within a few seconds, she melts into his embrace.

“I’m sorry, Daniel. I know you’re sick of these blasted mood swings of mine.”

“You’re not in control, Peg.” His hand rubs her stomach. “This one is calling the shots.”

“I know, but this is hard on you, too.” She kisses his neck. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re probably right,” he says, smiling to himself.

She playfully pushes him away. He counters by framing her face with his hands and covering her lips with his. The kiss is tender and unhurried, ending far too quickly for his liking. 

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Peggy, you know I would do anything for you. I love you and I love this baby, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep both of you safe and happy.”

“Even if it drives you crazy?”

“Who says it hasn't already?” He kisses her temple. “Jarvis will be here in a few hours. And you don’t need to get up to open the door; I gave him a key.”

And the switch is flipped; her eyes harden and she purses her lips. “I don’t need a babysitter, Daniel.”

“No, but I thought it would be nice for you to have company.” He pulls away from her and stands.

“I don’t need company,” she bites out. “I can keep myself busy.”

“Like you have so far this morning?”

She harrumphs, crossing her arms in front of her and resting them on her belly.

“By the way,” he says, taking a set of keys out of his pocket, “you won’t be needing these.”

Her eyes narrow as she recognizes her car keys. “Daniel, give those back!”

“‘Bye, my love. Have a good day.”

He makes it out of the bedroom before the pillow she throws hits the doorway.

\-----------

Peggy notices that Daniel has everything she could need within reach of the bed: a carafe of water and a bowl of her favorite candies on one side table; a stack of novels, a pen and paper, and the newspaper on the other side table. He seems to have thought of everything, except how he expected her to lay in this bed all day.

She picks up the newspaper and reads through articles of interest, getting involved in a few of them. This isn’t so bad, she thinks. Surely that killed…

...fifteen minutes? That’s it?

She tosses the paper on the floor and reaches for the novels. Thumbing through them, one stands out to her: Murder on the Orient Express. That sounds interesting, she thinks. It is interesting, as she gets into it, but her mind keeps wandering. Did Daniel remember the meeting this afternoon? Does he have everything he needs? 

She picks up the phone and dials directly to her office.

“Sousa.”

“Daniel, I just wanted to check that you know where the files are for the meeting with the U.N. ambassador this afternoon.”

“Got them right in front of me,” he says. “You told me where they were last night.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Goodbye, Peg.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as she hangs up, she remembers that she meant to tell McDermand and Roscoe to look further into one of the businesses connected to their HYDRA investigation.

She picks up the receiver again and dials her office.

“Sousa.”

“Daniel, could you tell McDermand and Roscoe--”

“That they need to dig more into Wonderland Enterprises? I already told them and they’re working on it.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Peggy, you need to relax.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not. Read the newspaper.”

“I did,” she says, frustrated.

“Then read a book.”

“I tried that, too.”

“Try again. I have a briefing in fifteen minutes and I have to get ready for it.”

“Sorry,” she says, embarrassed that this bed rest thing is so difficult.

“I love you, Peg.”

“I love you, too.”

She hangs up the phone and resists the urge to call him back. She lasts exactly eight minutes before she dials again.

“If your name is Director Carter,” he answers, “I’m hanging up.”

“That would be very rude, Daniel.”

“Bed rest, Peggy.”

“I am in bed and I am resting. I hardly think picking up a phone receiver is too much stress.”

“But thinking and worrying about work is. I've got this, Peg. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember. I can do this,” she says, more for herself than for Daniel. “I won’t bother you again. Goodbye, Daniel.”

She hangs up the phone and pushes it away from her. She picks up Murder on the Orient Express again. That lasts less than ten minutes before she puts it aside. She’s itching to call Daniel again but resists. She can do this, and she needs to prove it to him.

With phoning into work not an option, she grabs the pen and paper and starts making lists of assignments for the agents. Daniel can take them to work with him tomorrow. She fills up one page of the paper pad and keeps going.

Surely this is still bed rest. Isn’t it?

\----------

Surrounded by pieces of paper, she hears the door open and close. Glancing at the clock, she realizes it’s been more than an hour that she’s been writing.

“It’s just me, Mrs. Sousa.”

“I’m in the bedroom, Mr. Jarvis,” she yells back.

It takes a few minutes but he finally enters the room, and the first thing he sees is myriad papers on the bed. “Obviously you’ve been busy.”

“Just making some notes for Daniel.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be working.”

“I’m not working. I’m… writing things down.”

Mr. Jarvis’s eyebrow rises. “Of course. So what shall we do today?”

“You don’t need to keep me busy, Mr. Jarvis. As you can see,” she says, sweeping her hand over the papers, “I am capable of doing that myself.”

He gathers up the papers, then takes the pen from her hand. “Let’s try something that doesn’t resemble work. I’ll have you know that I play a mean Go Fish.” He gives her a cocky smile. 

Her eyebrow arches.

“No Go Fish?” He frowns, but quickly shakes it off. “Fine. I will retire to the kitchen. I thought while I was here that I would make some meals for you and your husband.”

She smiles. “That would be lovely, Mr. Jarvis. Thank you.”

He returns the smile, then his face lights up. “Actually….”

He practically runs from the room. She hears scraping, then Mr. Jarvis groaning and more scraping. What the devil was he doing?

“Mr. Jarvis?”

“Just a moment,” he says, his voice strained.

It takes a few moments but he comes back into the bedroom, his hair disheveled and sweat pouring from his forehead. “All ready. Shall we retire to the kitchen?”

She looks at him, questioning, but she is so desperate to get out of the blasted bed that she shimmies herself to the edge of the mattress. He lurches forward and takes her hands, helping her up. One of his hands goes under her elbow.

“I don’t need help walking,” she says sharply, pulling her arm away from him and waddling out of the bedroom to the kitchen. She stops short when she sees their Barcalounger sitting by the kitchen table. “What the bloody hell…?” 

“Your husband said that you needed to be in a comfortable chair. This is far more comfortable than a kitchen chair. I know that resting is not your forte. I quite understand. I do not like being idle myself. And I certainly can use the help preparing these meals.”

He digs around in grocery bags that he must have brought with him, and removes a bag of potatoes and a bushel of carrots. He places those on the kitchen table, then retrieves a cutting board and vegetable peeler.

She settles in the chair and feels a smile growing on her lips. Mr. Jarvis truly is a gem. Taking the carrots, she separates them and grabs the peeler.

\--------

Daniel drags himself into the house, immediately surrounded by the most delectable scents. Jarvis has been here and he’s been cooking. Thank goodness; he certainly didn’t have it in him to make dinner.

He walks into the bedroom to see Peggy’s nose buried in the book Murder on the Orient Express.

“Give me a minute, just a few more paragraphs,” she says, putting up a finger.

He smiles and removes his jacket, tossing it on the back of a chair. He sits on the edge of the bed as Peggy closes the book and puts it down.

“Good book?”

“Not bad,” she says.

“So you survived the day?”

“Thanks to Mr. Jarvis, yes. He and I made dinner, and the pot roast should be ready in about thirty minutes.” She smiles at Daniel’s narrowed eyes. “He moved the recliner into the kitchen. I peeled and cut vegetables. That’s all.”

He chuckles. Jarvis is an absolute genius, he thinks, getting her involved but keeping her exertion to a minimum. Maybe he’ll ask Jarvis for more ideas.

Peggy pats the bed next to her, and he doesn’t have to be asked twice. He moves onto the bed and lays down, folding his arms around her as she leans against him.

“Hmmm, this is the kind of bed rest I can get behind,” she says, snuggling her head on his chest.

His hand settles against her lower back. “Maybe the doctor will prescribe some for me, too.”

“Busy day?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, punctuating it with a yawn.

“I feel just awful that you have to do my work.”

“We have a good team, Peggy. Everyone is pitching in.” He’d delegated much of his work to the other agents, who were less than enthusiastic for the extra load until Daniel told them it’s because Peggy was not coming back until after the birth of the baby. Their mood lightened immediately and everyone got to work.

“I know but it doesn’t make it any easier for me to accept.” She moans as his fingers hit a particularly sore part of her back. “However, I’ve had the day to think, and I know this is what I need to do. No more phone calls, no more work. I need to rest for the baby.”

“Promise?”

“I promise I will try my hardest.” Her hand smooths over her belly. “Though I do have some notes that I made for you that you can--”

“Peggy.”

She sighs. “Fine. No notes.”

He kisses the top of her head. It won’t last, he knows. She’ll be leaving notes for him and on the phone to him tomorrow and every day until she delivers. This is going to be the longest two weeks of his life. Or three weeks, or longer, depending on when the baby arrives. _Come on, kid_ , he thinks, _get out of there soon, for all our sakes_.


End file.
